


kiss, bang!

by grandson



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Androgynous Shiota Nagisa, Assassin Akabane Karma, Assassin Shiota Nagisa, Implied/Referenced Seduction, M/M, Mentioned/Implied Assassination, Mild Sexual Content, Non-binary Shiota Nagisa, Other, Shiota Nagisa uses They/Them Pronouns, could be seen as canon-compliant, does that really count as an alternate universe?, sugar daddyish karma akabane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 19:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18610894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandson/pseuds/grandson
Summary: Such a pretty, pretty thing,Karma thinks, licking his tongue over his sharp teeth, over his lips. He can’t wait. He loves watching Nagisa slide up to people with pretty blue eyes and pretty pink lips, entice them with pretty smiles and batting their eyelashes, then watching them maul them apart, getting blood underneath their manicured fingernails.





	kiss, bang!

A tight, tight black dress. Shiny, near sparkling, black heels. They’re draped in diamonds, it glitters on their fingers, wrists, ears and neck. They’re in front of the mirror, bending at the waist and a foot extended outwards as they reapply their sheer lipgloss for the fourth time that night. They look beautiful— no, no, stunning, divine, breathtaking— it makes him swallow hard.

A young, bright couple staying the next few nights in a five-star hotel, getting ready for a romantic, sensual date and then wasting the night away with firm kisses and harsh whispers— that could’ve been what the scene was, what it could’ve been interpreted to be. If only it wasn’t for the wide, silver briefcase filled to the brim with crisp bills bound together by bands on the bed, the guns scattered across the dresser, and a name and passport-sized photo on printed paper sitting on the glass coffee table with a bright red X going through it. 

But Karma was never really one for regular romance, it was just too bland for him. It lacked. Everything about it just lacked in everything he desired, what he craved for, what he yearned for. But not with Nagisa, never with Nagisa. 

He makes his way over with steady steps, halting behind said person with hands on either side of the dresser, encasing their body in between his arms. They paid him no mind, but Karma saw it, the way their eyes— such a light, light blue— flickered up to meet his for a brief moment, before settling back on their own lips, carefully dragging the applicator over their pink lips. He watched them for a while, watching the purse and smack of lips.

“Why’re you putting so much effort into the old perv, anyway? Not getting enticed by money, are you, Nagi?” He spoke lowly into their ear, teasing, choosing to wrap an arm around their stomach loosely, the back of his wrist resting against the dresser. His other hand found its way onto their hip, resting his broad palm against their left hip, dragging his thumb across the smooth fabric of the dress. 

They stopped for a moment, the applicator coated with gloss just a breath away from their lips, to look up at the the half-lidded, flaxen-colored eyes looking back, his grin like the tip of a sharp, sharp knife. It makes them gently press their shiny lips together, and swallow audibly. The tip of the knife sharpens, it gleams, his grin widens ever-so-slightly. 

He looks good tonight, he looks rugged, dressed in deep reds and charcoal black. There’s an air of danger that surrounds him, the type to make your neck feel hot, make you feel foreign in your own skin. 

“Please,” Nagisa starts with a small laugh, the applicator returns to their lips, “If anyone was to get turned on by money, it’s you. I’m just feeding your fantasies by doing this, after all. You should be grateful.” They continue, tilting the applicator to get the corners of their lips fully coated with sheer gloss, before sliding it back into the slim tube with a small squelch, and making it stand upright on the counter. 

Not a single word left his lips, a single syllable didn’t dare breathe past his lips, all he did was sigh, deep and low. It made Nagisa tilt their head to press against their shoulder delicately.

Karma spares a glance at the watch on his wrist rimmed with silver, and his teeth tug at his lower lip as a smirk plays and widens on his lips, he has time. He has time, he thinks as his hands come to grasp Nagisa’s thin hips with his broad, calloused hands, his fingers gripping hard enough to sting and burn, but not enough to bruise and blue the skin underneath. 

He pulls them back, it’s not fast, it’s not rushed, it doesn’t come as a shock to the blue-haired beauty facing the mirror. He pulls them back gently and steadily, makes their ass press against his crotch, but he doesn’t do anything beyond that, except for turning Nagisa around, grabbing the underside of their thighs and lifting them up onto the dressing table, crowding them against it.

It’s at times like these that Karma really notices how much smaller Nagisa is compared to him, with their small wrists and slender hands and slimmed legs and tiny feet and even with heels on, their head will only reach up to the middle of his chest. 

He reaches for a gun that’s beside a designer perfume bottle, it’s small and it’s black and it doesn’t feel right in his hands. Karma prefers the more brutal things, he likes long machetes and heavy rifles and breaking peoples fingers one by one, and letting them heal wrong. But it’s perfect for Nagisa, Nagisa and their slim and pale hands and long, slender fingers and their soft, soft palms.

The pads of his fingers close around the edges of their dress, it’s black and it’s soft and Nagisa looks oh so gorgeous in it. Karma bought this for them, he bought everything they’re wearing right now— from the beautiful dress that’s stark against their skin, to the shining heels, to the diamonds that are wrapped around their neck, encircling their fingers, the studs in their ears, the bejeweled clips in their hair and the dozens of perfume bottles that look like miniature bottles of wine and the sparkly lipgloss’ and pedicures and manicures. 

Nagisa could very well buy all of this themselves, but it feels good, dropping a couple thousand, feeling the stares on his back and on his face when he’s in stores, dressing Nagisa up and kissing them senseless, watching them admire the things and appreciate them and use them up because Karma will always buy more and more, anything Nagisa wants, he’ll get it. 

Karma strokes the fabric of the dress between his fingers for a brief moment, feels blue, blue eyes on him. He pulls the edges of the dress up, exposing pale and small and toned thighs, there’s a holster around their thigh, black straps around their thighs and one connecting upwards, it’s secure, and empty. Karma twists the gun in between his fingers, both hands going toward the plush-looking skin, one hand opens the holster, but not without contact. 

Their thighs feel like the underbelly of the snail, so fucking soft. It’s unreal, he thinks, sliding the gun inside, it’s unfair, he thinks as he straps the gun inside. There’s a giddiness building itself up inside of him, it’s bubbling beneath his skin, and he feels a small hand, or rather, two small hands go up to clutch at the edges of his collar, hesitate, then pull him in. 

It’s a searing kiss, it’s hot— it’s all sticky lips and tongue and bruising skin and desperate little noises and harsh breathing and clutching each other closer, tighter.

The cock-and-click of the gun, the loud bang that’ll resonate within the room, a body dropping to the floor, and red pooling onto the floor, he can imagine it, imagine it so vividly. 

A grin works itself onto his lips, and he presses harder, makes the kiss bruising, bites soft pink lips and messes up the carefully applied lipgloss and lets the bloodlust fester like maggots in an open wound as slim legs hook around his waist and heels lock behind his back.

**Author's Note:**

> this took me a long ass fucking time to write. hope you liked, give me advice, what you liked, what you didn’t, eat well rest well i love u.


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